


Blue velvet

by Saltylocks



Category: Sparks Nevada Marshal on Mars, The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Daydreaming, Eggs, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other, Out of Character, Oviposition, Panic Attacks, Peanut Butter, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 12:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18778777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saltylocks/pseuds/Saltylocks
Summary: Post-end Sparks/Croach, realising that they love each other.





	1. ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparks Nevada realizes his feelings for his deputy Croach the Tracker.

Sparks had caught himself looking a certain way at Croach recently. Like his body had been possessed by desert ghosts while he slept and made his eyes follow the martian's tall, blue body before his mind caught up with them and made himself look away.

"So gross," Sparks grumbled, trying to focus on the blessed paperwork in front of him.

Or maybe it was his mind that was the unbridled part of him, making him have those dreams as of late, where he and Croach had to stay close together in a small space for far longer than what seemed strictly necessary. Those dreams never failed in making Sparks wake up with an empty bed as well as an empty feeling in his chest. He knew he longed, but he refused to connect the two dots, until that very moment.

Sparks Nevada, Marshal on Mars, had a crush on his martian deputy. 

The marshal groaned loudly and ducked under his table where he promptly curled up into a ball and muttered "so, so gross!" over and over again.

He kept it up for a good five minutes before he noticed that Croach was sitting beside him, looking at him with his antennae poking straight up. 

"Can't a guy even have a panic attack in peace?"

Croach ignored his prickly tone.

"Do you wish to be left alone, Sparks Nevada?" 

Croach's antennae moved back and forth tentatively.

"Yes", Sparks said quickly. 

"No," he added as Croach started to move away.

"I don't know," he settled on. 

Sparks rubbed his face. Croach had remained sitting, but his demeanor had softened a bit.

“Twenty of my twenty-eight senses tells me you have a Pani-Khata’ch.”

“Yes. A _panic attack_.”

Sparks tried to enounce every syllable as clearly as he could.

“Yes. _Pani-Khata’ch_ ,” Croach answered patiently.

“Whatever,” Sparks muttered, burrowing his head back against the floor and focused on his breathing. The sooner he calmed down he could get back to work. If he ever calmed down that was. Fuck, what if he stayed like this all day. It wasn’t even ten pm in Mars time. What if…

His train of thought was cut short by a martian hand on his back. He looked up to see Croach trying to crawl closer to him under the table, folding his body in very strange ways that would be impossible for a human, but ultimately failing.

“What… are you doing?” Sparks huffed.

The martian paused his movements but kept stroking his back.

“When my body is subject to Pani-Khata’chs, I like to be enveloped. Is this not desirable for earthlings as well?”

It did feel good to be touched. Gods, it had been a long time. Sparks didn’t say anything, and so Croach kept stroking his back, awkwardly folded in next to him in the small space under Sparks’ desk.

After a time it became too quiet, so Sparks felt he had to fill the silence.

“When... I’ve never seen… you have panic attacks too?” he eventually said, turning his head a little. “I can’t even imagine you having... any emotion really.”

The marshal didn’t try to sound mean, but he winced at the way those words came out. Croach looked unperturbed though, like he always did.

“Sparks Nevada, when the Pani-Khata’ch hits me like a burning wind and forces me to my knees, I do like you and hide. Not under my desk, but behind the fact that humans only have six to nine senses compared to my twenty-eight.”

“You mean you hide it?”

“Yes,” Croach admitted, still stroking Sparks Nevada's’ back.

Sparks didn’t want him to stop, so he kept talking, keeping his voice low.

“Six to nine senses, huh?”

“It varies greatly from person to person, Sparks Nevada.”

“I have nine, right?”

There was definitely a softness in Croach’s voice now. 

“I can not say, Sparks Nevada,” he almost whispered.

“Definitely nine,” Sparks said and grinned.

There was another moment of silence.

“Do you feel better, Sparks Nevada?”

Croach’s closeness, his low voice and gentle touches crashed over Sparks in an instant. In truth, he felt like shit, but at least he was calmer. 

“Yeah,” he said, needing Croach to move and desperately not wanting him to stop touching him at the same time. “Hey, listen…”

Croach hadn’t needed to come over and take care of him. Yet he did. Sparks wanted him to know he was thankful.

“If you ever have a panic attack, you know, and you need something, don’t, you know, don’t hesitate to, um, ask. You know?”

Croach seemed to pause for a second, and then he nodded, one, slow nod.

“I won’t hesitate,” he repeated. “Thank you, Sparks Nevada.”

Sparks nodded too, and excused himself to go stand outside for a while. He rubbed his face again, watching a purple storm cloud form far in the distance. It would be over them in a couple of days, he could tell by now. It felt strangely similar to his own situation.


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Croach experience whatever feeling Sparks is feeling. This turns out to be problematic.

“The marshal station doors are open,” the AI announced as Sparks went back inside and sat down at his desk. He tried to focus back on his work. It was impossible.

The marshal knew by now that Croach liked him, beyond fulfilling his stupid onus. They made a good team. He trusted Croach. If someone had told him a few years back that his deputy would be a Martian, he would have laughed them right in their stupid faces. If they told him he might have feelings for that same alien, with his stupid antennae and stupid feet fetish…? He didn’t want to think about it more. He was older now. Maybe wiser too, though that part was debatable.

Anyway, they had been through some stuff. When he had thought him and Croach was going to have a kid, he had been sort of into the idea, even though it was totally gross. Kind of gross. Maybe gross? Sparks wasn’t sure. He tried to imagine being with Croach. He would walk over to his desk, tug the martian's chin so he'd turn his face towards him. Kiss those soft, blue lips. Sit in front of that well-arranged desk and let Croach run his hands all over his body and mingle their breaths between kisses. Sparks would stroke and touch the martian’s antennas, feel the velvet fuzz covering the alien’s body, and when they were close enough, he would grind their bodies together, his hard cock rubbing against blue skin and

“Sparks Nevada?”

Sparks raised his head so fast he might have pulled something. Croach was looking over at him, his antennae turned backward somewhat. Sparks blushed, wiggling in his chair. That was more intense than he had expected.

“Yes, Croach, what is it?”

“Nothing, Sparks Nevada.”

Sparks huffed and pretended to go back to his paperwork, rubbing at his neck. This was actually more or less standard for them. Those things for the podcast, those happened few and far between. Most times they were just there, at the station, hanging out, drinking too much coffee (Sparks), or nasty martian tea (Croach), and the most dramatic that would happen was when someone spilled coffee all over the “finished” pile (Sparks) or someone doing all their work perfectly much faster than the other one and ending up playing Pinball on their computer very loudly while Sparks had to do everything over again (Croach). Sometimes one of them (Croach) helped the other (Sparks) to finish up their unfinished part of their collective work. That was always nice of them.

Spark’s stomach rumbled. He sighed. He was half hard, so he didn’t want to go over to the fridge. Not that it contained much, only condiments. Sparks started opening drawers in his desk. Might have some old peanut butter in one of them. He found a jar and started eating while working on the forms. 

“Request: Can I and my family move to Mars?”

NO, Sparks wrote.

“Please specify your answer below.”

UNSAFE FOR CHILDREN, Sparks typed as neatly as he could. UNSAFE FOR EVERYONE, REALLY.

Then he stamped the lower part of the paper with his signature and put it in another pile. Sparks had eaten nearly all of the peanut butter before noticing that Croach had stopped moving. Sparks looked over at him. 

The martian’s eyes were completely back. That sometimes made it hard to say what Croach was looking at unless he also moved his whole head. Which he was doing now, very visibly following Spark’s fingers between the jar and his mouth. Sparks was unsure what to make of it. He knew it was kind of gross to eat with his bare hands and all. Also nuts were deadly to Martians, but Croach had said peanuts were fine as they were legumes, so why was he watching him so intently? 

“Do I have peanut butter all over my face, is that it?” Sparks asked, attempting to feel his face and probably making it worse. “Why are you looking at me like that? Got nothing better to do? You finished all your work already?”

Croach blinked, and his antennae shivered. 

“I am sorry, Sparks Nevada,” he said, sounding a little flustered. “I guess I was lost in thought, as humans call it.”

He then proceeded to take a large gulp of his tea. Sparks watched him, more confused than ever. Croach rarely looked remotely…anything. He carefully continued to empty the jar of its content, licking the rim as far as he could go in order to get the last pieces out. He had no food at home and this jar had been there for a while, so there was no reason for him not to eat it all before it went bad.

Croach still watched him, not working. His antennae were turned towards Sparks and as Sparks licked a spot that was particularly hard to reach, Croach made a noise. Just a little whine, that seemed to startle the martian more than Sparks. 

“Alright,” Sparks said and put the empty jar down. “What’s going on with you?” 

“Please, Sparks Nevada, do not ask. I am under onus to tell the truth and I am... embarrassed.”

Sparks didn’t listen, reaching for a fresh mug of coffee. 

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?”

“I am experiencing dvie’yeece.”

“D-what now?”

“Sparks Nevada, what do you know about metaclorians?” the martian asked patiently.

“Very little,” Sparks said, taking a swig of his coffee. “Is this going anywhere?”

“If a human feels something very strongly, sometimes a martian can feel the same way, due to the sensitive metaclorians in our antennae. Sometimes we even transfer those feelings to ourselves, as a way of smothering them. In your case, it doesn’t seem to work though.”

“You can feel what I feel?” Sparks said, drinking more coffee. “Gross.”

He liked to tease Croach, knowing the martian would be offended by him even though he had said it more times than he could count, following almost every utterance the blue alien said.

Then the words sank in, and he realized why Croach had watched him so intently before.

“It is not “gross”, Sparks Nevada…”

“Hold on, wait. Everything?”

“Yes. It is very distracting. I finished work two point eight units slower than usual.”

Sparks just looked at Croach. He was still a little unsure what, exactly, Croach meant when he said “transferring feelings to himself” or whatever.

“Got it, umm, I’ll just try to reel those feelings in, and get back to work…”

“That would perhaps be beneficial to both of us, Sparks Nevada.”

To the marshal’s credit, he really tried. It was like when he was hungry, but he knew he couldn’t think about that ‘cause dinner was several hours away. It would just be a waste of energy thinking about food. Yet he couldn’t help himself, when Croach was so close, to slide back into that daydream of his, Sparks propped up on the martian’s desk, getting rawed. He let it occupy his mind as he stamped forms on routine, writing “NO” and stamping them while he grabbed hold of one of those large antennae and sucked on the bulbs on the ends of them, and then both at the same time. Croach would whine like had did when Sparks had licked at that peanut butter jar, moan filthily against his throat

“Sparks Nevada.”

Croach had moved a little closer, standing beside his desk, gripping the table side hard. His cheeks looked darker... was he blushing? Could a martian blush?

“Um, yes Croach?”

“I thought we agreed you would try to keep your feelings contained.”

“I’m trying, okay?”

“Try harder, Sparks Nevada.”

“Fine, fine.” 

The martian made a frustrated noise but didn’t move from his position. 

“Do you need some assistance with those forms, Sparks Nevada?”

“No, I only got about two hundred left. Be done in a jiffy.”

“I see,” Croach said.

Sparks wasn’t sure, but it almost sounded frustrated. Croach _never_ sounded frustrated. This must be serious. A small, or not so small part of him, wanted to take it further. He could go home, shower, sleep it off. Or he could keep going, and see what other interesting noises Croach could make. 

“You could actually help me,” Sparks said innocently, “here, get your chair over beside mine, I’ll show you.”

Sparks showed Croach the system he had developed, described the different piles on his desk. Croach listened intently.

“I was wrong about you, Sparks Nevada, in thinking you were a slow worker. It is clear to me now, that it is amazing that you get any work done at all.”

Sparks huffed, and Croach sat down next to him. They worked, as in, Crouch did all the work and Sparks kept slipping into his daydream whenever they reached for the same pen or stamp one too many times. Eventually, Sparks stopped working altogether and just watched Croach’s hands move gracefully over the paper in his beautiful handwriting. He always wrote long, carefully worded explanations to why humans should or shouldn’t move to Mars, and still, he completed all his forms before Sparks. It was a total mystery. Now, Sparks imagined those deft fingers moving over his body, snaking inside his shirt, removing his bolo tie and cowboy hat and grab his shoulders and ass and pull him closer towards him and kiss him with that big mouth of his and press up against him and bend his body up to meet his gyrating

“Sparks Nevada!” 

It sounded less like a chastise and almost like a plea. They looked at each other, their shoulders almost touching sitting behind Spark’s desk together.

“Y-yeah?” 

Spark knew he was staring way too hard at Croach’s lips before looking up and meeting his pitch black eyes. The martian’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. They were so painfully close, the marshal and his deputy...

“MARSHAL!”

They broke apart, only inches from connecting, but Felton’s voice totally killed the mood. Croach blinked once,slowly, looking almost dazed. Sparks closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before addressing the man who had just run into the marshal station.

“Yes Felton, what is it?”

“MARSHAL, HAAAALP!”


	3. THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get smutty.

Sparks was tired to his bones as he dragged his body back to the marshal station. He hitched his rocket steed and stumbled up the stairs to the bedroom. Croach followed him like a shadow. To most people, Croach probably looked like he always did. Sparks had learned to tell when the martian was tired though. The slump of his shoulders, the way he held his hands, how his antennae almost sagged. He was as worn out as the marshal.

Dealing with spies and bandits were one thing. That, at least, had the potential of excitement, of using his astro spurs and robot fists. This had just been sad. A clear case of domestic abuse. Sure, between two outlaws, but they hadn’t done anything illegal, and Sparks had a distinct feeling they would be together again in a couple of months again, and fighting, yet again. These things were not as easy to deal with as, say, a bank robbery or a kidnapping.

Sparks was so tired he didn’t even care, he just stripped off as he walked up, dropping his boots and spurs as he ascended, leaving his pants somewhere at the middle of the stairs, hanging his hat at the end of the railing and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs as he laid down. Croach made some kind of request, but Sparks didn’t hear it. He was fast asleep before his head hit the pillow. 

When Sparks woke up the sun shone in on his face. It usually didn’t. His bedroom was on the other side. Who the fuck had moved the sun?!

As he rose, he noticed other discrepancies. His normal Earth blanket wasn’t covering him. Instead, he had a hide of hyper cattle covering his nether regions. 

Oh. 

This was Croach’s room. This was Croach’s bed. Sparks must have been so tired he had crashed in here instead of going to his own bunk.

The marshal looked around. He had never considered how big of a bed Croach needed because of his size. He felt dwarfed by it, both wider and broader than his own. There was nothing on the walls, making the bed seem even bigger, taking up most of the room. If he had slept here, then where…?

Sparks tiptoed over to his own room. Looking in at it, he almost wished he had a camera. His bed was far too small for the curled up alien on it. It was kind of sweet. Endearing. Whatever. Sparks felt kind of bad as he shook Croach awake.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry I took your bed.”

The martian shook his head and stretched like a cat. 

“It is fine, Sparks Nevada.”

“Didn’t look very comfortable.”

“It was not, Sparks Nevada.”

“Well,” Sparks huffed. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“As you know, members of my tribe does not lie.”

“I know. Was gonna make some breakfast. Wha’d’ ya want?”

Croach told him to not make anything, as he already had too much of an onus to fulfill. Sparks ended up making some coffee for himself and nasty martian brew for Croach anyway. Croach looked miserable, one antenna poking straight up and the other lying almost flat against his head.

“You look like you didn’t get any sleep. Probably would’ve been more comfortable sleeping next to me in your own bed,” Sparks said between sips as he took his deputy in.

The martian looked at the marshal like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Then he did a full-body shudder.

“Maybe next time, Sparks Nevada,” he said as he accepted the big cup with a long-fingered hand.

Next time, Sparks thought. Now that certainly gave him ideas.

The day continued as most days did. Around lunch, a shipment of groceries arrived and Sparks welcomed the break, starting to fill up the freezer with meat, frozen dinners, and vegetables. There was some milk for his coffee, some kind of yellowish martian yogurt for Croach that smelled and, best of all, more peanut butter. 

Satisfied, Sparks returned to his desk and continued his work. After some time, his mind slipped into imagining more stimulating activities though. Now that a day had passed, surely it was safe to daydream again? The sensitivity in those antennae of the deputy sitting next to him surely had been restored to his normal state by now, right? Sparks couldn’t wait to find out.

The way he imagined it, he approached Croach, taking the blushing alien’s hand and guiding it down his body, down to his rock hard cock. Croach would blush even harder, complimented by the way the marshal’s body reacted to him. He would unbuckle his jeans, gripping at her hardness inside. As the marshal got up on the desk, Croach would fall to his knees and take his whole length inside his mouth, putting that long tongue to use

“Sparks Nevada?”

He didn’t realize he had been staring at his deputy, mouth slightly open. He gathered himself a little.

“Yeah Croach?”

“Did you forget your promise to, as you said, ‘reel your thoughts back’?”

“Oh, no, sorry. Didn’t know it was so obvious.”

“Well, it was, Sparks Nevada.”

A beat passed between them before Sparks let his thoughts out.

“Just out of curiosity,” he asked, “what do you pick up on, more specifically? You can’t read my mind, right?” 

As he said it, Sparks realized what he’d just asked. All his lewdest thoughts rushed through his head. Croach squinted at him, looking unsure of exactly how much he should tell him. Sparks only imagined what he was able to pick up at that moment. Nervousness, probably. He never said these things out loud, for obvious reasons. Something about it made him feel brave though. He kept his eyes trained on the martian. None of them moved. Like a fast draw duel, but with words. 

They spoke at the same moment. 

“Sorry, if you don’t…” 

“Sparks Nevada…”

Silence again. 

“Sparks Nevada, are you sure you want to know?” Croach said.

Sparks’s breath hitched. He nodded.

“I can not read your mind,” Croach said, slowly, as if looking inward. “I am not sure how to describe it, as I am not used to emotions. It is a little bit like the bloodlust I experienced before, but... deeper.”

Croach’s voice lowered as he spoke, turning the last word into a breathy whisper. 

“Is it… good?” Sparks said, suddenly worried.

Croach leaned back against the chair, his shoulders sinking. His voice was still breathy as he turned to regard him.

“Very good, Sparks Nevada.”

“You sure? You seem a little out of it, buddy.”

Sparks grinned. He didn’t know he could have this effect on his martian friend. He liked it. Croach leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“That was exactly why I asked you to stop thinking about such things, Sparks Nevada. I was getting used to having some emotions from spending so much time with you and Red Plains Rider. This is so much... more.”

“Alright, alright… What’s different?”

The martian seemed to contemplate it for a moment. Sparks moved closer, his body moving on its own accord, pouncing on the unsuspecting alien. Croach spoke again, making Sparks freeze, his fingers inches from touching the martian’s blue skin.

“I think it feels more because I have started to have emotions myself.”

Sparks throat felt dry. Croach looked straight into him, into his soul, it seemed.

“Is that so?” Sparks whispered.

Croach reached out and guided Sparks’ hand down, to hang at his own side. Sparks didn’t understand. He looked down at the blue hand gripping his wrist, and up again.

“Go back to work, Sparks Nevada.”

Croach let go of Sparks with a final glance and turned back to his duties. Sparks felt like someone had just pressed a spear through his torso.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said a he went back to his desk.

He just sat there for a couple of seconds. Staring right ahead of himself, trying to grasp what had happened. Eventually, he went back to work, moving through applications like a robot. Didn’t want to look up and face the martian like some rejected puppy. 

He should be used to it by now. Ginny had divorced him a year before, saying she needed her space. Sparks didn’t think she would come back. He figured it was only a matter of time before his best friend did the same, having fulfilled his onus to him and going back to his tribe. Leaving him by himself, to fill in these forms all by his lonesome. Melancholy filled him as he pressed down the stamp on another piece of white square. Would he do this forever, only the AI keeping him company? Maybe he should deputize Felton… no, no, that was too grim of a thought, even for his current state of mind. 

Sparks was so lost in thought he didn’t even realize Croach had stopped working again and was just watching him with something akin to irritation over his features (if you could read his martian, unfeeling body language, which Sparks would have been able to if he had been paying attention instead of wallowing). Sparks didn’t notice until the martian groaned loudly and made his way over to Sparks’ side of the room.

“Bagropa!”

“What? Hey, what are you…?”

“Sparks Nevada, I can still feel whatever you are feeling, and I do not care for it!”

Sparks was taken aback, and then annoyance bubbled up inside him.

“Well, I can’t help how I feel!” he retorted. “I can’t turn it off!”

“That is very clear to me, Sparks Nevada! Bagropa! You are so, so... human!”

That was a new insult. Sparks could feel himself fizzle. 

“So what if I am? I’m from Earth!”

He moved closer into Croachs’s space, staring up at him. He had never seen him display emotion so clearly, his martian jaw tense and normally smooth brow furrowed. He looked terrifying and sort of… gorgeous? It made him even angrier.

“Yes, Sparks Nevada, you clearly are, with all your feelings, and hair, and ears!”

“So what? I can have ears if I want!”

Sparks would never admit to it after, but he kind of stomped his foot a little. Croach looked to the skies briefly, as if he called for help from the heavens, a motion he probably had picked up from the marshal. Sparks was so close to the Martian he could practically feel the feedback loop of his frustration coming out of the other being’s mouth. 

“YOU MAKE ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE, SPARKS NEVADA!”

“AND WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT, HUH?”

“EVERYTHING! YOU ARE SUCH AN... ALIEN!”

That… Sparks had never seen it like that before. That he was an alien to Croach. That he wasn’t considered the normal one. The surprise made all the anger drain from his system. He was kind of just left standing, looking into the eyes of his friend, who was still annoyed and also very, very close.

“That’s actually… kind of true. Never thought of it, to be honest,” Sparks admitted sheepishly.

Croach huffed. His forehead turned smooth again and he unclenched his fists. 

“I apologize,” he said, back to formal. “I let your anger affect me.”

“No, Croach, it’s… it’s my fault. You warned me. I didn’t listen.”

Sparks took a deep breath, steeling himself.

“If you need to be apart from me for however long you have this, this thing, I won’t, you know, I won’t blame you I you wanted to leave.”

Croach looked horrified at the mere thought.

“I have not fulfilled my onus to you, Sparks Nevada,” he said, with a fervor Sparks hadn’t heard before. “Do you wish me to leave?”

No, he wanted to yell. Never.

“You know, it’s whatever, if you can’t stand being around me…”

“Sparks?”

The marshal looked up at his deputy. He had never addressed him by his first name alone before, let alone in such a soft tone of voice.

“I can still feel your feelings. I would, however, be grateful if you also vocalized them.”

Vocalizing was hard when his throat was constricted. Sparks grit his teeth against the sob threatening to escape his mouth.

“Do you wish me to leave?”

Sparks shook his head. 

“No”, he whispered.

Croach just kept looking at him, way too close. Then a blue hand reached up to stroke at his cheek.

“Sparks Nevada, earlier today, your mind was happier, and then after we spoke, you were sad, and hurt. I believe it was what I said, but I only meant that we should finish our work for the day, or we will lag behind on our yearly quota. I did not wish for you to never engage in such thoughts, or actions, again.”

“Oh,” Sparks said, unsure but hopeful he had understood what Croach were trying to say. “I see. So you didn’t… not… like it?”

“Yes, Sparks Nevada. In fact, I think I would enjoy such thoughts and actions more often.”

Hope flickered to life in Spark’s chest.

“Uhuh,” Sparks said. “So you’re saying, you would like to try such... activities, then? With me?”

“After we finish up the paperwork,” Croach reminded him.

“Yeah yeah,” Sparks grinned. 

“Your shift in mood is almost palpable, Sparks Nevada.”

Croach took his hand away and walked back to his desk, looking as calm and unassuming as he always did. Sparks, however, felt warm all over. He sat down, but his mind was already back to daydreaming. Croach was all over him, his body pressing him down, it was gross but also completely not-gross, being under the heavy blue alien. Sparks could feel a surge in his stomach. He started writing faster, stamping faster, while still imagining Croach’s hands on him, working in a frenzy unlike any other day. He chugged a ton of coffee, too. He was almost surprised when he found his inbox free of paper. It had, to his knowledge, never happened before. 

Croach wasn’t done yet, by the looks of it, still scribbling away. Sparks didn’t want to interrupt, so he kicked his boots off and relaxed. His socks were dirty, so he took them off, before leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the desktop, next to the finished pile. He kind of dozed, buzzing with caffeine and anticipation. His hat slowly dipped lower on his face, until it completely covered his eyes.

“Sparks Nevada.”

“I’m awake!” Sparks startled, almost kicking the papers to the ground. 

He gripped for his laser guns, before remembering where he was. He shot a glance at them anyway, hanging on their holster on the chair. Croach had stood very close when he spoke, and now he had taken a step back from the flailing marshal, with his head tilted to the side. He looked amused, Sparks thought, judging from his antennae and the slight tension in his arms.

“Did you dream, Sparks Nevada?” Croach said, leaning in closer again.

“Yeah,” Sparks said carefully, feeling his insides coil at the proximity of the alien. 

“I could feel it,” Croach said, almost conspiratory, letting his gaze wander down the human, lingering on his bare feet. “It is intoxicating, this emotion.”

He looked back up. Sparks couldn’t breathe. It was too good. He reached out, unsure, and touched the blue alien’s fuzzy arm. He had touched Croach before, of course, but this time it felt different, as he let his fingertips slide long his arm and down into his slightly lighter palms. He could feel the martian’s breath on his forehead and looking up, their mouths were only inches apart. Sparks wet his lips, but before he could move Croach had already covered his mouth with his own. The alien’s mouth was so warm, and soft, and Sparks shivered as he reached for him. Croach’s tongue was rough, like a cat’s, and tickled as it explored Sparks’ mouth. The marshal wished he could have done something, laid on some cool moves, but his mind was slowly but surely turning into mush, so many sensations competing for attention at once: Croach’s tongue, Croach’s lips, mouth, hands, the way his firm chest pressed against Sparks’ and pushed him back towards the chair, and then how those hands lifted him out of the chair and pushed him into the walls of the marshal station. Sparks put his hands on Croach’s shoulders and panted into his mouth as the alien pushed against Sparks and ground his hips into him. The marshal made a noise he didn’t know he was capable of, a long, breathy moan, and Croach stilled to make eye contact with him. He smirked, Sparks was sure of it, and the human locked his legs around the martian’s midsection as he lifted one of his eyebrows. 

“That all you’ve got?” he gasped.

“Oh you have no idea, Sparks Nevada,” came the rumbling answer, before Croach pushed their bodies together again, mouthing at his earlobe and sucking at his neck.

“Be careful, you’re gonna give me a hickey,” Sparks said, “ and then everyone will know what we’ve been up to.”

“Is that so bad, Sparks Nevada?” Croach said between kisses.

Huh. Sparks tried to remember why hickeys were bad and failed as Croach put his lips to his pulse point.

“Not at all,” Sparks panted, feeling happiness bloom in his chest.

Croach let that tongue wander and explored Spark’s other ear, gripping his chin and turning his head for better access. The marshal was lost in the sensation until Croach very carefully dipped into his ear canal. He shivered, arching his back, and felt his cock grind up against Croach’s stomach. 

The martian hummed as he looked down, following the human’s body. One of his hands reached out, a long finger dipping inside the band of his jeans. He couldn’t fit more inside, so he continued his exploration on the outside, pushing his palm against the straining fabric. Sparks couldn’t help but pant and lean back a little in invitation. Croach looked up at his face, and then swiftly undid the marshal’s belt, allowing him to reach inside and touch his cock. Sparks ground himself up into his hand, and yeah, Croach was definitely smirking now. Sparks was at his mercy, hard and panting against a wall, his body held up by the blue martian. He was not in control. Croach was. Sparks could climb the tall alien, could kiss him, but if he didn’t want to do something, Sparks couldn’t make him. It drove the human crazy, made him squirm even harder, made him reach up to kiss those blue lips even more desperately. Croach grabbed hold of his ass and held him flat against him so he could grind against him again and again. Under the loincloth he always wore, Sparks could feel something radiating heat, making them both warm. He wanted to feel what it was, to finally know what Croach had between his legs, and reached a hand down to touch. 

 

His fingers touched something warm and sticky. Croach made a sharp inhale as Sparks let the tips of his index and middle finger slide around in whatever he felt. He looked on his fingers, seeing the clear viscous liquid drip from his fingers.

“Gross.”

He fixed his eyes on Croach’s, before slowly putting his fingers into his mouth. It tasted a little sweet. Croach looked at him like he was mad, which Sparks guessed he was, putting an alien’s fluids in his mouth. He didn’t mind being called mad. He wasn’t a coward though. Then Croach, still holding on to him, smashed their mouths together and as he assaulted Spark’s mouth with his tongue, he started walking them upstairs. Sparks had never considered himself small, and being carried to bed wasn’t something he was used to. He could though. He really could.


	4. FOUR

The hyper cattle pelt was itchy under Sparks Nevada’s back, but he barely registered it. All he cared about was how much of him was pressed up against Croach, and the way their bodies moved together. He wished they could keep doing this forever, their fingers intertwined and their shared breaths panted between them. His mind was blissed out, cozy and relaxed under the martian. When he felt something wet touch his leg, he barely registered at first.

Sparks was very aware he was making out with an alien. No question about it. He had had dreams about it, even though he had called them nightmares, before. The marshal didn’t know what to expect there to be between Croach’s legs, though. He had reached out, tasted, to quench some of his curiosity, and still, he didn’t _really_ know. On the plus side, he mused, he wasn’t dead either. What a way to go out, though, Sparks thought, more into the idea that he would ever admit out loud. 

Sparks reached down again, between them, but this time he couldn’t, closer to the tall martian’s face than his genitals. His feet were closer, on either side of the martian’s hips, but it felt wrong considering Croach’s weird hangup with that part of their anatomy.

“Croach,” he said, making his friend pause momentarily, “come on, I wanna touch you.”

Croach raised himself a little, looking ragged and delicious. 

“Sparks Nevada, we are touching.”

“You know what I mean.”

Croach cleared his throat, or his whatever he had. He looked unsure, his antennas turned back. 

“Sparks Nevada, I’m not sure it is a good idea. I do not look like you.”

“Hmm, well, do you look more like Red? Not to brag, but I’ve got some... experience in that area.”

Sparks tried one of his more winning smiles. Croach didn’t look reassured. 

“It does not look like the Red Plains Rider's genitalia,” the Martian said, almost sadly.

Spark’s heartbeat sped up. So something completely alien, then.

“That’s why I need to see,” he pleaded. “Come on, lay on your back.”

Croach still seemed hesitant. Sparks wished they would get back to the kissing. He smiled again, trailing stubborn kisses along his strong jaw.

“I already know what you taste like,” he whispered, his voice needy and deep. 

Croach let out a low huff and then rolled them over together. Sparks was almost naked, his jeans around his knees, while Croach wore what he always wore, his loincloth and almost mummy like strips of animal skins that wrapped around his legs from his ankles to the middle of his thigh. Martians didn’t seem to have any reason for underwear. Sparks licked his lips. Carefully, still straddling Croach, the human untied the loincloth and tugged it off the martian’s hips.

First, he thought it was hair, small, light blue little protrusions, becoming longer and longer until they joined in the middle, where they sort of just turned inwards, like the petals of a dandelion, too many to count. And they all glistened with the same lubricant that had coated his fingers already. Sparks touched them lightly, watching the martian’s face, circling the place where the petals turned inwards and perked up when Croach’s breath hitched. He slowly let one finger inside the rim, seeing more fluid drip out and coat his fingers. He then licked them thoroughly, making sure Croach could see. The martian just watched him in silence, barely breathing. When Sparks returned to circling and eventually pushing a finger inside, Croach let out a low moan, finally relaxing.

“Still got it,” Sparks thought, letting the soft pads of his index finger drag along the walls, listening to Croach’s breath hitch.

Sparks added a second finger, pleased in the way Croach arched and closed his eyes. The martian’s mouth was open, his nasal slits flaring, and he jerked every once in a while like he tried to keep from moving and failing. His hands came down to his sides and he gripped the hyper cattle skin tightly, almost ripping it. The marshal added a third finger and Croach’s eyes finally fell shut, and a desperate gasp escaped his lips. It shouldn’t be as hot as it was, but Sparks could feel his own body react as he moved faster, on all fours in front of the alien now, his hand slipping in out of that wet cavern. When he felt himself starting to cramp, he reluctantly paused and shifted so he could use his mouth instead. Croach whimpered when Sparks let his breath ghost over the little petals, and arched when he stuck his tongue into the indention. He wasn’t sure how deep he was supposed to go, if he was supposed to do whatever he was doing to Croach was the “right” thing to do to that area, but if the martian’s reaction was anything to go on, it was definitely doing something for him.

Drinking Croach in, both figuratively and literally, he noticed that all those little white protrusions seemed to uncurl, becoming thinner and longer. They seemed to have a mind of their own, caressing his lips and chin appreciatively. Some even slipped inside his mouth, investigating his single row of teeth and tongue. Above Sparks, Croach kept moaning breathily, so he knew whatever they did, it only seemed to add to the martian’s pleasure, and consequently to his own. It was great seeing his friend(lover?) enjoy himself. Sparks had been worried Croach might not be able to, and so so happy to be proven wrong.

Sparks kept going, and the alien never seemed sated. The noises were almost purrs, rolling off him in waves, intermingled with gasps and moans. Meanwhile, the insides of the martian seemed to become shallower, almost like something was pressing out. The little feelers around the marshal’s face seemed to increase in number, filling his mouth and tickling his nose as he nuzzled deeper, encouraged by Croach’s gasps and shivering hips. Something was poking out, he realized and untangled himself to take a closer look. 

It was something, again, looking almost like a flower, a tulip perhaps, pink, with slits along its sides, and covered in more liquid. As he lipped at it experimentally, listening to Croach whining, it kept extending, an almost see-through tube. Sparks kind of knew what it was, from rumors from humans who had been with Martians, even if he hadn’t been able to tell if those whispers had been true or not, before. He should’ve asked Croach.

“Ovipositor, huh? That’s… neat.”

“If it bothers you, Sparks Nevada, just ignore it. Please, just... keep doing what you were doing before.”

Croach’s husky voice floated towards him. Sparks looked up at the Martian, puzzled.

“Can’t be too bad from the sounds you’re makin’... Why would it bother me?”

Sparks grinned mischievously and mouthed at the ovipositor, watching the long, girthy tube spurt more lubrication. He licked it up, spirits lifting at the way Croach hummed and squirmed beneath him. The alien didn’t relax completely, still more on his heart. 

“It bothered the Red Plains Rider,” he muttered.

“It did?” Sparks asked, still mesmerized by the ovipositor. “Why?”

“I…”

Croach hummed in an unsure way, going all tense under Sparks. 

“I mean, I don’t have a problem right now,” the marshal reassured him. “Not all humans are the same y’ know. Why would I have a problem with it?”

The martian made a frustrated noise. 

“It seems private, Sparks Nevada, to discuss such matters with you. All I will say is that the Red Plains Rider insisted that I climaxed, and when I told her what I needed in order to do so, she no longer wished to engage in those activities. It seemed too far removed from how your species procreate, I believe.” 

Sparks crawled back up to Croach’s face so he could shower the martian’s face in kisses. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he promised. “We can, you know, just kiss some more, maybe?”

Croach let out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, Sparks Nevada, that’s definitely something we can do.”

Outside, it started to rain softly, and the rare scent of moist red sand filled the bedroom. Sparks felt hot all over, just sticky and sweaty. After a while, he kicked off his pants, and since he was still warm, he toed off his socks as well, just as Croach sucked on his neck in a very distracting way. He then proceeded to press his warm body against the blue martian, grinding down against the side of his stomach. Croach paused and watched the human breathlessly, before his expression turned dark, hungry. Sparks felt a shiver down his spine as Croach grabbed his butt and pressed the length of the protruding wet ovipositor to his cleft, grinding up and down between his legs, moving faster and faster, making Sparks slick with fluids as he tried to keep up. He started to touch himself, but Croach patted his hand away and just stroked him slowly along his whole length, grabbing some of his own lubrication to slick him up even more. It shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but he had to close his eyes to gather himself, close to release right then and there. Rising so he could sit up, he ground down, feeling Croach purr underneath him. He could feel himself becoming pliant, opening up, the ovipositor catching on the rim of his ass and how good it felt against his balls and the root of his cock. It was easy to lean into the feeling and relax, to lean just so and press against the smooth tube. When it caught again, they both exhaled, and Croach slowed down a little, making sure Sparks was okay, and Sparks wasn’t above begging at that moment.

“Please-”

It didn’t even sound like him, coming out like a ragged sob. Sparks had to clear his throat.

“Please.”

Croach sped up, looking both relieved and more focused. He rose up to meet Sparks, somehow still able to rock up against Spark’s ass, and locked their mouths together, his rough tongue tickled the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat.

“God you’re big,” Sparks exhaled, feeling Croach smile against his mouth.

When the ovipositor tip caught against Sparks ass again, he just did what felt good and ground down. The tip slipped in a little and back out without much effort, a bit further in this time, and Croach kept moving against him in a steady rhythm. It felt great, honestly, sending thrills up Spark’s back and making him moan thickly. Croach seemed pleased by the noises he produced, reaching back to circle the small of his back before dipping his fingers lower. His right hand still moving slowly up and down Spark’s shaft, he let his left slide between them and ghost over his now very slick entrance. The marshal wasn’t in control of his body anymore, he just instinctively ground his hips down, feeling a bead of sweat run down his temple. 

“Come on,” he pleaded, “come on…”

“What do you need from me, Sparks Nevada?”

Sparks head snapped up, because holy shit, he had never heard Croach tease so obviously before, and he could barely contain himself at the sight of the alien in his arms, the quivering antennae, the crinkle of a smirk on his normally stern face, all of him just beaming mischief. Sparks suddenly felt so struck by it, as it dawned on him exactly what was going on, before relaxing again, grinning as he pressed his ass down on Crouch’s fingers.

“Give me everything you’ve got. I can take it, Croach, come on. Don’t make me beg.”

Croach almost stilled completely, an inquisitive glance on his face. 

“Are you sure Sparks Nevada. The Red Plaines Rider…”

“I’m not her,” the marshal countered impatiently. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Come on, don’t stop…”

“As you wish, Sparks.”

The finger circling his rim passed it and the marshal sighed as a new wave of pleasure hit him. The hand on his cock had stilled but he didn’t miss it much, too focused on what happened inside him. Thanks to the martian lubrication, Croach had no problem adding more fingers, and when he touched against his prostate Sparks couldn’t help but yelp. New, interesting tingles spread through his body. Croach quickly added more fingers, slicked up, driving them further and further and curling them until Sparks could do nothing but pant breathlessly. He still wanted more though, he wanted that ovipositor inside him, he just needed it so badly. 

“H-hey,” he tried, and moved back against the large organ, “I wanna -”

Croach’s fingers slipped out, there was a terrible emptiness for a few seconds, and then a new sensation filled him as the blunt head of Croach’s alien genitalia was pressed against his opening. Croach seemed to have stopped breathing completely, focused on angling his body so he could press inside. It was so slick and big and hard, and as Sparks moved, Croach seemed to expand even further. The feelers at the base of it followed along, opening him up further, depositing more fluids as they extended up to meet him. To say it felt good was an understatement: Sparks was sure he had never felt so good in his life. He felt a little like he was sliding down an actual pole, but more like it was growing and filling up every inch of him, his stomach tight as he panted with the effort of holding himself level. Under him, Croach had started to breathe again, in little, desperate gasps. For a moment, they both revealed in the feeling. Then, Sparks could feel the tip of the ovipositor twitch inside him, releasing more fluids, and he had to move. Each thrust made him feel even more like he was impaled, but the movement caused such amazing noises from Croach that he had to slide around, using his thighs for leverage. It was more like swaying, and he tried to relax his muscles. Croach seemed dazed at first, just taking in the view. 

“Croach...”

His weak voice seemed to be enough to make Croach stir from the trance. Then, he grabbed Sparks’ hips and started pounding up into him, making the human see stars. After that, time slowed down, the two of them moving in tandem, melting together. Sparks felt like he could go on forever, blissed out, and then something started moving inside him, a swelling mass pressing up inside him and filling him out even more. 

“Gods,” Sparks huffed, impossibly close.

Under him, Croach shuddered and his rhythm faltered for an instant. The base of the ovipositor swelled and pressed against his prostate, and it was still too little, somehow just a tease. Sparks grit his teeth, and then, he finally felt it, like the swelling deflated a tiny amount, but moved upwards. Croach had closed his eyes, his hands gripping the sheets, head tilted back. The purr was a rumble now, and Sparks wished he could make a similar noise, to harmonize with that sound. He could only gasp for air as the swelling passed his prostate and further up inside him. He didn’t have time to think, to grasp what was happening, only how good it felt. Another shape made its way through his rim, he was so stretched he could barely feel it, and he held his breath until it passed his prostate, sending thrills up his spine. Croach’s thrusts were weak under him, but Sparks could tell he liked it, that the Martian was enjoying himself as well. His big blue hands still gripped Sparks’ hips tightly, and as a third thick shape was pushed along the alien member into Sparks, he felt them breach something inside him, along with some warm fluids. The tip was poking into the plains of his abdomen, and as Sparks touched his stomach he could feel three distinct bumps around the area where he was impaled by the alien. He pushed on them, a little grossed out but mostly turned on, and then gasped as felt another set move up his insides in rapid succession. He couldn’t help it, his whole body tensed as he came, and when he tensed, it sent more eggs into him as Croach roared and arched his back. They were lined up, like a rosary, sliding up and into him as he moaned and squirmed. The base of the ovipositor was thick and had him trapped close to the Martian as he spilled all over both their stomachs and became limp. The martian kept filling him, the ovipositor rigid inside the human, keeping him upright as more fluids and eggs spilled out inside him. 

It shouldn’t be hot, but it was. Insanely hot. 

After what seemed like an eternity to Sparks, the Martian finally seemed to be done. There were no more swelling, no more abuse on his oversensitive prostate. His abdomen was bulging with eggs and fluids. Before he drifted off to sleep on Croach’s massive chest, he gave the alien a huge smile and a sloppy uncoordinated kiss.


	5. FIVE

“So, umm, you know when we...?”

Croach the Tracker looked up from his desk, fixin’ Sparks Nevada with his jet black eyes.

“I remember.”

There was a hint of a smile, a wiggle of his antennae that Sparks interpreted as positive.

“I, um, they are still there. You said…”

Sparks paused for a moment. It sounded too accusatory.

“I mean, I just assumed they would be gone by now. Absorbed, like… like we talked about?”

They hadn’t really talked since the incident. They had gotten dressed, there had been an awkward silence. The dvie’yeece had subsided and the martian proclaimed he no longer felt what Sparks felt. Since they were both males, Sparks had assumed there was no way for the eggs to actually develop, or whatever. They would get absorbed and they would be gone. There was nothing more to talk about. 

Except… well. 

Sparks moved closer to Croach so he could show him. There was definitely a small bump left, hard to the touch and straining against Spark’s waistband. It had been more than a week. Sparks cheeks turned red as Croach put his hands under his arms and put the marshal on the table to examine him closer.

“Sparks Nevada, this should not happen with two people of a different species as we are. It is most unusual.”

“Hm, yeah, well, tell me about it.”

It wasn’t unpleasant, having Croach’s hands all over him again. Sparks had sort of missed it. That it would take an actual pregnancy in order for that to happen wasn’t the optimal outcome, but hey, he’d take what he could get.

“Soo… do you know why I still have this… ‘cause I can’t be, I mean, _pregnant_ , right, that would make no sense...”

Croach was very quiet as Sparks spoke, and then he slowly shook his head.

“You are right, Sparks Nevada. It would make no sense.”

It wasn’t exactly a “no” though. It was the most unlike a “no” Sparks had ever heard.

“Are you sure you are one hundred percent human?” Croach continued, his hands still on Sparks stomach.

“I think so, Croach. What kind of question is that?!”

Croach’s antennae drooped a little. 

“Just asking.”


	6. SIX

Whatever it was inside Sparks, it didn’t go away. It grew. People started to notice, telling him he might need to stop eating so much. Sparks jokes it off, only to study himself in the mirror later. Somehow, it didn’t feel wrong. It is starting to look like he’s pregnant, but… he felt good. It didn’t feel _bad_. He sort of felt… proud.

Sparks wears bigger shirts, so people won’t stare. His belly gets bigger. Croach corners him a month after they first talked about it, Sparks has noticed him staring but wasn’t sure how to talk to him about it.

Croach wasn’t exactly subtle, splaying his long-fingered, blue hands over Sparks’s stomach, looking as annoyed as an expressionless martian could. 

“You stimulated my egg sacs,” he says, accusatory almost.

“Oh yeah, Croach, how could I forget?” Sparks nips back, sarcastically. “It’s not like I can see the results of it every single day or anything!”

Croach pushed his hand against Sparks lower abdomen, and it tickled in a way that shouldn’t feel good but still did. Sparks let out a gasp. 

“I asked the shaman of my tribe, after last time we talked,” Croach said, low in his chest. “They said there is a possibility, that the rains are to blame. Those rains only occur once in one hundred years, and they make everything more… fertile.”

“Hang on, you asked the shaman about this, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I was hoping it would be a fluke,” Croach admitted. 

“Well, sucks to be you, I guess,” Sparks sighed, still affected by how close Croach was.

“I want to help,” Croach whispered, “but I don’t know how.”

“That makes two of us, you know.”

Sparks tried to sound mad but it came out tired, gods he was tired, tired of going through it alone, tired of not having anyone to talk to about this new thing inside him, that neither of them knew what it was. Croach looked at him, hesitant, worried to overstep more than he had already done, and Sparks didn’t want to do this by himself anymore.

“Just… be here, okay?” Sparks finally said, and Croach crooked his head, unsure if he had heard him right.

“Don’t go away,” Sparks clarified. “Help me figure this out.”

Croach looked down at him for a moment, and his shoulders slumped. He looked… relieved.

“As you wish,” the martian murmured, and then added, “thank you.”

He had wanted to, but kept himself away, Sparks realized. He shook his head. They had both been such fools.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, hugging the martian close. Croach just sort of melted into his arms, and something slotted into place. Sparks felt elated, care-free, for the first time in a month, and he could feel the tension drain from Croach as well, as he snuggled closer.

It was going to be fine. 

 

\----

 

Two days later, Sparks woke up with a Bad Feeling™ low in his gut. It was hard to explain, and then something moved, and Sparks was shouting for Croach.

“Goddamnit, FUCK, Croach, Croach get in here, FUUUU….”

Croach was there a second later, taking in the scene as Sparks writhed on the bed naked. It was pain, Sparks could recognize pain anywhere, but it was so muddled with pleasure he came down from it panting. His muscles cramped and rolled, and something moved again, moving further down his guts, towards his ass. Sparks was keeping his eyes shut, still too focused on the feeling.

“Croach!” he shouted as soon as the pain-pleasure wave subsided.

“I am here, Sparks Nevada,” came the murmur from right beside him.

“Oh. I think something is happening.”

“Indeed, Sparks Nevada.”

“Isn’t there something you can do?” Sparks said and winced as another wave hit him.

Now there was definitely something in his ass, he could practically feel it expanding his insides, and he tensed as he felt it move a little and then get stuck again. He was about to shout at Croach some more, but then he heard how the springs in his bed squeaked and dipped as the martian joined him.

“Turn on your stomach, Sparks Nevada,” Croach instructed him softly, and Sparks didn’t argue. Croach slowly started massaging his lower back, right above where his cleft started, and the human let out a sigh because it felt so good. Croach’s hands were warm and when the next wave hit him, there was definitely more pleasure than pain. Sparks’ toes curled and he stayed still as he didn’t dare to move. After a while, Croach’s circling motions widened and Sparks could feel himself shudder when Croach reached his entrance.

“Is this alright, Sparks Nevada?” Croach asked, his fingers still circling the rim. 

Sparks let out a hoarse laugh and dared to crack an eye open to peer at the alien.

“I would let you know if it wasn’t, believe me.”

Croach nodded and Sparks gave him a half-smile, cut short by another wave of pain as his body tried, and failed to move the egg inside him down.

“It’s like it’s stuck,” Sparks panted as the feeling subsided, “like…”

He let out a breath as Croach breached him, a long finger inside him, and Sparks just shut his mouth, shut his eyes, as he could feel himself flutter weakly against the pad of the alien’s hand. Croach’s fingers were so long he could actually reach the rounded shape stuck inside, and it was the weirdest feeling when Croach pushed at it lightly, moving it further inside with his finger. When he pulled out, Sparks opened one eye to look at him, only to be treated to a full view of alien genitalia. He only watched, breathlessly, as Croach removed his loincloth and coated his fingers with his own juices, before pressing back inside Sparks, adding a second finger. 

“I believe your insides are in need of lubrication, Sparks Nevada.”

The lewd comment came out so casually Sparks couldn’t help but snort because he would never have guessed something so filthy to ever come out of the martian’s mouth.

“Yes Croach, now that you mention it,” he said in a weak mockery of the alien’s tone, “I believe it does.”

Croach paid him no mind, back at pushing at the egg, leaving smears of lube as he returned to himself for more, stretching and slicking up Sparks as he went along. Soon, the egg stuck inside began to move down a little, landing right above the rim, and as soon as that one moved, Sparks could feel another detach from somewhere within and settle near his spine. He pushed, and it moved further down, settling next to the first. He wondered how many there could be. He knew how huge he had been in the mirror just yesterday. Fuck.

Another wave hit him, and now it was absolutely more pleasure. Sparks moaned and shuddered as he felt the first egg push out between his legs, stretch his hole, and it was so much, way too big, he couldn’t… He panted as the egg was sucked back inside him, and fell back on the bed. Now it pushed against the other egg and that one pushed against his prostate, making his head buzz. It didn’t feel bad anymore. He kind of liked it. 

He turned to his back with a moan, gripping his sheets tightly. He knew Croach was there, watching him, but he didn’t care who saw him, the feeling was too intense. He heard Croach’s breath hitch, and his hand on Spark’s stomach a second later felt burning hot.

“Are you in pain, Sparks Nevada?”

Sparks shook his head, unable to form words. He wasn’t coming, he could feel that he was erect, he just felt good all over, tingly from his feet to his hairline. It didn’t last long, because then, Croach’s fingers were back, stretching him, pushing at the eggs. The motion hit Sparks prostate and he came within seconds, arching his back and shouting. The first egg followed Croach’s fingers out, landing between them, a dark blue orb. Sparks rose to look, causing more eggs to jostle inside him and travel down his insides. He could feel them line up, like some sort of giant pearls on a string. His stomach still felt hard to the touch, and his head started to spin as he realized how many there still were in there.

“Please,” he moaned, to anyone, to the alien in his bed, to the universe. “Please help.”

And blue hands came to the rescue. Blue hands covered in lube, stretching him and coaxing more eggs out, as Sparks laid back and felt more and more of them leave him. Sparks fervently hoped Croach was getting something out of this too, he hoped the steady stream of lube from the alien was a sign of that. There was no pain now, only the light stretch as more blue eggs fell out of him in a steady stream. There were so many fingers inside him, some massaging his prostate. He was shivering, uncontrollably, unable to do anything else but grip the sheets and moan. Along with all that, he could hear Croach’s low voice. At first, it was too low to make out, but as Sparks moans became louder, Croach’s voice rose as well. 

“You are doing so well,” he said, “you are beautiful, look at you,” and then there were some words in Croach’s native tongue that Sparks didn’t understand the meaning of, though he didn’t have to. 

Sparks could feel himself slowly deflate, his big firm belly laying flat again, and he started to feel… empty.

The human hadn’t expected to miss the feeling, but he did. He rose a little, looking at the mess in his bed that the eggs had created. He would have to get some new sheets, that was for sure. He didn’t feel at all bad about that. He followed his body and the expanse of alien skin beneath him, the way Croach’s hands were almost completely inside him and felt his breath hitch at the sight. Croach was so focused that he didn’t seem to notice Sparks’ eyes on him, and when he did, he just smiled, looking so hot that Sparks couldn’t help but smile back. His cock twitched between them and even though he had already come he could feel himself harden, and Croach’s eyes on it. 

“Listen, just ignore it, I don’t think…”

Croach had already swallowed him down, and combined with him still pushing out eggs, the pads of Croach’s fingers still pressing into his prostate, the feeling of wet lips around his cock… Sparks came within seconds, whitening out. He could feel the last of the eggs being pushed out as he arched his back, leaving him with this terrible sense of everything being over. He was back to himself, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. Sweaty, tired and so, so very empty.

He peeled his eyes open, watching Croach sitting back and study one of the eggs intently.

“They aren’t fertile,” he announced, matter-of-factly.

Sparks hadn’t even thought of that, that eggs were supposed to be… containing something. New life. He tried to gauge Croach’s reaction to it, which was even harder than usual.

“Are you… How do you feel about that?” Sparks finally said, grimacing over how stupid he sounded.

“You know I don’t…” Croach started. “That I do not possess emotion.”

“That’s a big fat lie,” Sparks snorted.

Croach looked away, and Sparks immediately felt bad. He rolled up so he could embrace the martian and make him lie down next to him. Some of the eggs were squished between them but Croach had already said they were unfertilized, so Sparks didn’t mind much. 

“I’ll go first,” Sparks said. “I am happy we aren’t suddenly parents to some human martian hybrid just because I finally figured out how to make you come.”

Maybe it was the fact they were alone, maybe it was the way Sparks spoke the truth, but after a pace, Croach started circling his thumb on Sparks palm.

“I believe I am feeling sadness,” he said, slowly, “over not being able to procreate with you. It would have made you irrevocably mine, bonded to me over more than friendship and onus, created a physical kinship to which we would have been bound.”

Sparks swallowed. In his sleep-addled state, he had not prepared himself for that kind of confession. It hit him right in his heart, and he moved closer, his sticky body connecting with the alien’s naked thighs.

“I am, however,” Croach continued, “also very excited about the prospect of us being able to engage in the activity again if you wish to?”

Sparks couldn’t help himself, he grinned from ear to ear. This was probably the closest Croach would ever get to “I want you” and Sparks wallowed in it.

“Hell yeah,” he said, kissing the alien’s chin. “Just let me sleep for like twenty years or so, and then we’ll be golden.”

Croach kissed him back and then nudged him onto his back so he would lay comfortably. Sparks let himself sink down into the pillow and was asleep within two minutes.


End file.
